Tying the Knot

by Jeff Shelby

“Mabel? That old lady who likes to sing?”

  I nodded. “We thought it might be nice if she sings a song at the wedding.”

  “What? Why?”

  I turned on the kitchen faucet and let the water run, waiting for it to get hot. “Um, just for a little variety. And because she would really like to sing. As a present to you, of course.”

  This was blatantly false, considering Mabel didn’t know or particularly care who Laura was. But the lie served two purposes: one, it gave me an alibi as to where I’d just gone, and two, it explained why Mabel would be performing at the wedding. There had been no way for me to tell the elderly woman that she wasn’t going to sing, especially after showing up on her doorstep. I was just glad that I’d been able to talk Zoe down from her grand plans of performing at the entire thing. Of course, offering her a nice stipend for Mabel singing a single song had somewhat appeased her.

  “You’re lying,” Laura said flatly.

  My back was facing her but I knew her eyes were zeroed in on me like lasers, boring holes into the back of my head.

  “This is about the dead drummer, isn’t it?” Laura’s voice rose a little. “You are investigating things again.” She huffed out an impatient breath. “Why do you need to look into this? It isn’t as if he was murdered. Although we all know how often that kind of thing happens in this godforsaken town,” she muttered, almost as an aside to herself.

  I turned the water off. I hadn’t added dish soap yet and I could see the bottom of the sink, the forks and knives gathered there as if huddled together in a watery grave.

  Slowly, I turned around. “Actually, he was.”

  Laura was frowning. “He was what?”

  “Murdered.”

  Her face drained of color. “What? Why didn’t I know this?”

  I wiped my hands down the front of my shorts. “Well, you know now.”

  “But…but…” She looked wildly between Gunnar and me. He was scraping the last of his lasagna off his plate, purposely avoiding eye contact. “How?”

  “Strangled.” I wasn’t going to spare any of the gory details. I’d probably regret it later, but my nerves were shot and Laura was pushing all the right—or wrong, depending upon how I looked at it—buttons. “With an electrical cord.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my goodness. How terrible!”

  I nodded.

  Her eyes widened and she let out a muffled gasp. “Do they have anyone in custody?”

  “Nope.”

  She leaned against the counter, almost as if she needed the support to keep from falling over. “So this means the killer is still on the loose?”

  “Yep.”

  She gave me a horrified look. “How can you be so…so relaxed about this?” She brushed her hair off her forehead and I noticed that her color hadn’t improved. “This means we’re all in danger! All of us!”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Are you insane?” she practically shrieked. “How could we not be? Someone was killed on your property.”

  “I know,” I said, nodding. “And it looks like we probably know who was responsible for doing it.”

  She gasped again. “We do?”

  Gunnar finally looked up from his plate. “Rainy.” His voice held a note of warning.

  I ignored him. “I don’t know for sure, of course, but there are two people who look like they’re suspects.”

  She hesitated, then timidly said, “Who?”

  “Your brother,” I said bluntly.

  Her eyes widened.

  “And your fiancé.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Connor?”

  “So,” I said, spinning back around so I was facing the sink again. I grabbed the dish soap and squirted some into the sink as I turned the water back on. “It seems to me that this town isn’t dangerous. It’s the people who come to visit who are.”

  “Mother.” Laura’s voice didn’t sound like her own. “What exactly do you know?”

  “She doesn’t know anything for certain,” Gunnar said.

  I grabbed the washcloth and started scrubbing a plate. “We know that they both had reasons to dislike Drew. And to perhaps want him dead.”

  “Connor?” Laura snorted. “He didn’t even know the guy. Besides, there’s no way he could kill someone. It’s not in his nature. Not at all.”

  I frowned. How nice that she’d immediately come to the defense of her fiancé but not her own brother.

  “But it’s in your brother’s?” I asked.

  She didn’t respond. I rinsed the plate I was washing and set it in the drying rack.

  She remained quiet.

  Finally. I turned back around.

  Laura’s eyes were locked on the floor and she looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. She knew something. Something she wasn’t telling me. I could feel it. “What?”

  She let out a deep breath. “I…I heard him on the phone.”

  “Who? Luke?”

  She nodded.

  “When?”

  “Tuesday night.”

  That was the last night Drew had been seen alive. “Where? What time?”

  “I don’t know what time it was,” she said. “It was late.”

  “Why was he in the house?” I asked. “They were sleeping in the bungalow.”

  “I have no idea. All I know is that I came downstairs to get a drink and he was in the living room, talking on the phone. To Yancy.”

  “How do you know it was Yancy?”

  She frowned. “Because he said ‘I love you.’”

  “What else did he say?”

  She bit her lip. “He was complaining. About Drew.” She swallowed. “He was telling her how Drew wanted to come back to San Francisco with them, how he thought they had great energy and how he just knew he was the missing piece to the band making it big.”

  I could only imagine how that must have gone over with Luke.

  “Luke was as mad as I’ve ever seen him.” Laura’s voice was small, and she gulped. “He kept saying how he couldn’t wait to be rid of the guy, and how he was ready to kill him at practice that night.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I thought he was just venting, but now…?”

  I immediately flashed back to what I had witnessed at the church on Tuesday night: their loud shouting matches and the outright hostility between the two of them when I’d looked in on their practice.

  My heart plummeted.

  There was some scant evidence that pointed to Connor Bishop as a possible suspect.

  But there was much more evidence that indicated someone else might be responsible for Drew’s death.

  My son.

  THIRTY TWO

  It was Friday morning and I was a walking zombie.

  I’d gotten no sleep the night before. I was too riled up after my conversation with Laura. Gunnar had tried to get me to relax, plying me with wine and forcing me to sit with my guests and play endless rounds of blackjack, but neither had helped. I’d marched up to bed after seeing my guests on their way and then kissing Gunnar goodnight. I’d gotten into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and then collapsed in bed.

  And laid awake the rest of the night.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Luke, and what he might have done. Gunnar had suggested at one point during the night that I pull him aside and talk to him, but I’d balked at the idea. I knew I didn’t have the strength to do it right then, especially because I wasn’t sure what the end result might be.

  I couldn’t believe that my son would hurt a fly, much less another human. But the more I learned, the more I had to acknowledge that it was a possibility.

  A strong possibility.

  And I knew that if I was beginning to suspect him, the sheriff might not be far behind.

  Oh, who was I kidding? Sheriff Lewis would be miles behind, and might not even get to the right spot on the map.

  But still.

  I’d gotten there. I just didn’t know h
ow to proceed…or if I even wanted to.

  There was a good chance that Drew’s murder would go unsolved. The sheriff didn’t exactly have a great track record when it came to solving cases. I could just keep my mouth shut and let him do his thing after the wedding and bring us all in for questioning. He’d ask what he wanted to ask, try to blame me, fail, and life would hopefully go back to normal.

  But could I go back to normal, having this hanging over my head? Could I live with the uncertainty, the not knowing whether or not Luke had somehow been responsible for another person’s death?

  I didn’t know.

  Even after I’d spent an entire night tossing and turning, consumed with those thoughts, I was still torn.

  I sighed and poured myself another cup of coffee. Even though it was only eight o’clock, it seemed like every single one of my guests was up and moving. Sophia and Laura were outside, supervising the delivery of tables and tents and chairs. Connor was waiting on Mikey, who had promised to drop by that morning with wine samples for him to try so they could finalize that part of the menu. Jackson had just arrived to help with set-up and to squeeze in a morning practice session with Midnight Robot.

  And then a lady I’d never seen before wandered into the kitchen.

  I cocked my head. “Can I help you?”

  She smiled. “I’m Diana. Sophia’s photographer?”

  I should have guessed. She was as stunningly beautiful as Sophia, with shoulder-length hair that looked like spun gold and high Slavic cheekbones that might actually cut someone if they got too close.

  “Rainy Day,” I said, extending my hand.

  She glanced out the kitchen window. “Not yet. I think the rain isn’t due in until later, and it might even miss us.”

  “No, I mean my name is Rainy,” I said. “I’m Laura’s mom.”

  She stared blankly at me.

  “The bride-to-be,” I prompted.

  Her expression cleared. “Oh, Laura. Of course.” She looked expectantly around the kitchen. “Is she here? I told her I’d come by today so we could chat about the photos she wants done.”

  I pointed outside. “She’s out there with Sophia.”

  Diana smiled. “Oh, perfect! I need to talk to her about our next session, too.” She waved her hand and strode toward the kitchen door, the heels of her stylish beige ankle boots clicking against the tile floor as she made her way across the room.

  I picked up my coffee and glanced over the boxes of doughnuts and breakfast pastries on the kitchen table. Connor had mentioned last night that he’d run to Toby’s and grab some for breakfast, knowing how busy the day before the wedding was going to be, and he’d been true to his word. I used one of the paper napkins stacked nearby to pick up a bear claw and carried it to the living room, my mug of coffee in my other hand.

  I stopped as soon as I rounded the corner into the living room. Another woman I didn’t know was standing in my house.

  “Can I help you?” I felt a little bit like a broken record, asking this question again.

  She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her.

  “Do you remember me?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  She smiled. “That’s okay, because I remember you!”

  I just stared at her. Was she someone from Declan’s church? A clerk at Toby’s?

  “It looks like things are a little hectic around here so I’ll be quick,” she told me. “I have a surprise for you. A surprise you are going to l-o-v-e love!”

  “Who are you?”

  “Marlene Lester.” She pointed to the tiny emblem on her shirt. I squinted, trying to figure out what it was. “From Purrfect Pet Adoptions. We met a few weeks ago, remember?”

  It all came back to me. The adoption fair outside the hardware store, the incredibly cute puppies, and the way this woman had literally shoved a live animal into my arms.

  I could hardly believe that it had only been a few weeks since that had happened. It felt like a year had passed.

  And I felt as though I’d aged ten.

  Marlene’s eyes darted from me to the porch. “You’ve got a lot of people here today. My goodness!”

  “My daughter is getting married tomorrow.”

  “Of course, of course,” she murmured. Her left foot tapped the floor and she kept glancing behind her, toward the front door.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” I asked.

  She finally looked at me, pasting a smile on her face. “Actually, I’m here to help you.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded.

  “How?”

  Her smile wobbled. “Well, I heard from one of our volunteers that you had called the office to ask for recommendations from us.”

  “Yes. For music and a photographer. We had to plan the wedding pretty quickly.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. I understand.” She lowered her voice. “How far along is she?”

  “What?”

  “Your daughter.” She motioned to her stomach. “Maybe you can just tell everyone the honeymoon baby came early…”

  My own eyes popped a little wider, once I figured out what she was insinuating. Dear lord, did people still actually do that sort of thing? Lie about unplanned pregnancies?

  “Anyway,” she said, sounding more and more flustered. “Yolanda and I were talking—she’s the one you spoke with on the phone—and I remembered you from the adoption fair. You held Marshmallow, right?”

  Only after you shoved him into my hands, I thought. “Yes.”

  “And I just knew, watching you love on him and hold him tight, that you were a dog lover. You might not know it yet, but you were. Are, I mean,” she corrected.

  She was talking fast now, and I was immediately suspicious.

  “What is going on?”

  Marlene licked her lips. “Well, we here at Purrfect Pet Adoptions try really hard to find purrfect matches for our people and our pets. And when I heard that you had called for recommendations, that just warmed my heart, you know? You were asking for help, wanting to use people who were local, to give them your business and help boost the local economy.”

  What I’d really done was acted out of desperation and called the only place I’d recently seen a disc jockey and a professional photographer. But I stayed quiet.

  “And I just think that is so wonderful.” She smiled. “I wanted to acknowledge what you’ve done.”

  Now I knew what she was doing. She was here to offer me some kind of discount on getting a puppy. She’d probably extend the fifty perfect off deal she’d mentioned at the adoption fair in the hopes that I would come by their facility or an upcoming fair and pick out a dog.

  She took a deep breath and flung the door open.

  A small golden puppy sat on the welcome mat. Its tail immediately began to thump.

  “What is that?”

  Marlene clapped her hands. “A dog. Isn’t he wonderful?” She scooped the puppy up and handed her to me. “And he’s all yours.”

  The ball of fur squirmed in my hands. “Mine?”

  She nodded, beaming.

  “But I don’t want a puppy. I didn’t order one…”

  “Of course you want a puppy!” Marlene looked aghast. “I can see it in your eyes right now, just like I saw it at the adoption fair. You, my dear, are in dire need of a puppy. And this little boy is perfect for you.”

  “Mom.” Laura was calling for me from the kitchen. “Mom!”

  “In here,” I said faintly, still dumbstruck by Marlene and the little dog in my arms. He was warm and soft, and his little tail was whipping my arm, it was wagging so hard.

  “We need some duct tape,” Laura said as she walked into the living room. She froze. “What is that?”

  “A puppy.”

  Her expression went from one of shock to absolute delight. She hurried over to me. “That is the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen! Can I hold it?”

  “He,” Marlene corrected. She snatched the dog out of my
hands and gave him to Laura. “We call him Max but he’s still young enough that you can change his name to something else. He’s been working on housetraining, and he’s crate trained. He’ll make the perfect addition to your family.”

  “Addition?” Laura was addressing me but her eyes were locked on the puppy.

  Marlene checked the watch strapped to her wrist. “Oh my, would you look at the time? I have an appointment over in Winslow in fifteen minutes. A meeting with a prospective adoptive family. Max has a couple of siblings that are also looking for their forever homes.” She eyed Laura. “Are you looking to welcome a dog into your life?”

  Laura almost dropped the puppy. “No. Absolutely not. I’m getting married.”

  Marlene’s eyes widened and she not so surreptitiously glanced at Laura’s flat stomach. “Oh, that’s right. You’ll have your hands full a few months from now, won’t you? Well, once you get settled with that baby, you give me a call and we’ll get you squared away. Your mom has my number.”

  She spun on her heel and trotted back to her car before I could say a word.

  “What was she talking about? I’m not pregnant,” Laura said indignantly. She held the puppy out and glanced at her abdomen. “Do I look pregnant? Oh my god, is everyone going to think that’s why we moved the wedding up?”

  I grabbed the little dog from her before she did send him crashing to the floor. “You do not look pregnant,” I said firmly. “No one will think that.”

  “Then why did she?”

  I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  She stared hard at me for a moment and then transferred her attention to the puppy that was now methodically licking my hand.

  “Why did she bring you a puppy?”

  I sighed again, a deeper one this time. “That’s a long story, too.”

  THIRTY THREE

  Marlene wasn’t coming back for the puppy.

  Which meant the puppy was staying.

  For now.

  Laura spent exactly two minutes with us before she hurried back outside, anxious to continue her conversation with Diana, the photographer, and to get Sophia the supplies she needed.

  I stared at the tiny dog sniffing around the living room. What in the world was I going to do with a dog? Especially the day before a wedding I was hosting? And especially when I was trying to figure out if my son was responsible for a man’s death?